


There's Something There

by ChancellorGriffin



Series: Welcome to the Rare Pair Trash Bin, Population: ME [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Daddy Kink, Dancing Lessons, First Time Bottoming, Gay Sex, M/M, Multi, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to the Kellabby OT3 fic “When You Are Close to Me I Shiver.”  Set about a month after 316.  Abby, Kane and Bellamy are settling into life as a threesome (though Bellamy's relationship with them both is still strictly on the DL because honestly nobody wants to deal with explaining that to Clarke and Octavia).  Abby discreetly takes herself out of town for a few days to give them some privacy - conveniently, during the moonshine-soaked bacchanal of Unity Day - so the boys can finally try the one thing they haven't actually tried yet.</p><p>Or, the one where I wrote a whole fic based on the headcanon @victorias and I spent several late-night hours discussing about Marcus warming Bellamy up for their first time by slow-dancing with him in the dark to sexy Latin music.</p><p>Very minor Kabby and Bellabby in the very first section, so it's tagged as such, but pretty much this is straight-up Kellamy smut.  DON'T CLICK IF YOU DON'T WANT BELLAMY AND KANE STUPIDLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER AND HAVING FIRST-TIME MAN SEX</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [victorias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorias/gifts).
  * Inspired by [when you are close to me, i shiver](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745573) by [ChancellorGriffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin). 



> Inspired by the song "Mondo Bongo" by Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros, from the _Mr. & Mrs. Smith_ soundtrack. 
> 
> LISTEN HERE - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOKfHXVLnkY
> 
> This song is SEXY AS HELL and I cannot urge you too strongly to listen to it during the part where they're dancing to it. (And maybe the parts where they're doing other stuff too)

Kane wouldn’t have expected the people of Arkadia to be particularly enthusiastic about this year's Unity Day – about festivities of _any_ kind, really – so close on the heels of their return from Polis.  A month or so was hardly enough time, in his mind, for those of them still shaking off the horrors of the City of Light to feel whole enough to throw a huge party.

“I think that’s _why_ they want the party,” Abby explained sensibly, folding her spare clothes and stuffing them into her travel pack.  She could be entirely forgiven the slightly irritable snap in her voice, since she was the one who’d had to get up early today, while Kane was still sprawled comfortably across their bed.  Two full decades of practicing medicine and parenting had failed to instill Abby Griffin with any patience for mornings; but Marcus had returned home early last night, in an amorous mood, making her forget about packing altogether.  So here she was, just after dawn, grudgingly forced to finish everything up before she and Clarke left for Polis after breakfast, and Kane certainly _could_ have tried a little harder not to taunt her about it, but theatrically stretching and yawning to annoy her was far too entertaining.

“What do you mean?”

“They need distractions,” she said, pulling her traveling coat down from the rack.  “Nobody knows if the geodesic domes will work, nobody knows if Raven and Thelonious will find anything useful at ALIE’s home base.  Nobody knows how long we have.  They’re working hard, but it’s hard to blame them for taking any opportunity to let themselves get drunk and stupid for one night.”

“Easy for you to say,” he pointed out, “you’ll be in Polis, where it’s civilized.”

“I saw how many gallons of moonshine Jasper and Monty have stacked out back,” she said dryly.  “I’m sure we’ll be able to hear you all from Polis.”

“Why are you including _me_ in this?”

“Because you need distractions too,” she quipped, something ever so faintly mischievous in her voice, and Marcus knew exactly what – and _who_ – she meant.

She zipped her pack closed, sighed, and leaned over the bed to press a kiss on his mouth.  Instantly his hands slid up to tangle in her hair, holding her close as if unwilling to let her go.  It was still new, this thing between them, they were still sorting out what it all meant, but they’d both lived alone too long to take each other’s kisses for granted.  There were no rushed, perfunctory good-night and good-morning pecks between them; no, Marcus parted his warm mouth and Abby sank into it, her hands cradling his jaw, feeling it open and close as he pulled her in deeper, and only the fact that she was already late to meet Clarke forced her - after a long, long moment - to finally pull away.

“I mean it,” she said firmly.  “You need to give yourself a night off too.  You’ve been working past midnight for the last two weeks.  And,” she added, in a softer tone, “I think it’s time.”

Marcus swallowed hard.  “I don’t know if he’s ready,” he said in a low voice, feeling his heart already begin to pound.

“He’s an adult, Marcus,” she reminded him.  “He’ll _tell_ you if he’s ready.  What he needs to know is that _you_ are.”

“Is that why you’re going with Clarke to Polis?” he asked suddenly, and there was no denying the faint flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“I needed a few days with my daughter,” she answered, a little evasively.  “But it's true, I thought maybe you could use . . . a little privacy.”

“Abby – “

“Take good care of him,” she said softly.  "He loves you."  Then she kissed him on the mouth again, and was gone.

* * *

Circumstances forced her to make her second set of goodbyes in private, a depressing necessity to which they'd become resigned.  Today's excuse was the night shift's guard report.  Kane was still sleeping, she'd informed David Miller in a perfectly calm and even voice, but she would be happy to drop the report off at the guard tower since she was headed that direction anyway, rather than waking Kane to do it after he'd been up working until two a.m.  Clarke was already at the Azgeda campsite beyond the gate, and Abby would meet her there.

The camp was only just stirring into wakefulness as she set her pack down on the ground and climbed the ladder, with nobody outside except Monty and Nate Miller at the gates, finishing up their shift, and the kitchen staff out tending the vegetable garden.  And anyone could see the tablet in her hand, so her excuse was ready and perfectly plausible. 

Still, she felt the same shivery sensation she always did when they were close to each other, a heady combination of aching desire - still so new it hadn't lost its knife-sharp edge yet - mixed with heart-pounding fear about what would happen if they were seen, if their vigilance faltered for even a moment and this was the one time they weren't quite careful enough.

But the moment she stepped off the ladder into that little steel box and Bellamy Blake seized her in his hard strong arms, backing her against the cold metal wall in the only corner of the observation tower that could not be seen from camp, even the secrecy seemed a small price to pay.  To have him, to have this, to feel his fiery young heart pounding against hers as he kissed her with a white-hot ferocity.  It was hard to remember, while he was kissing her, that there was anything about it to regret.

The whole camp knew by now about Kane and Abby, a development which had surprised exactly zero people.  But Bellamy complicated things. It wasn't easy to explain the notion of being in love with two people at once; it opened up a number of relationship questions they simply weren't ready to answer, which led all three of them onto some tricky ground. Clarke and Octavia, of course, deserved to know first, but the infinite complexities of navigating those conversations were so daunting that it made a convenient excuse for not telling _anyone_ yet.  And of course there was also the age factor, which was bound to raise a few eyebrows, along with the fact that there was no way to answer the very simple question of "How on earth did this happen?" without making it impossible for the listener to look at the back of the Rover the same way ever again. 

Not to mention the practical question of what this meant for Bellamy’s status in the guards as Kane’s second.  Relationships between guards had been expressly banned by the Exodus Charter - although, as Raven often put it, “ _everything_ fun was banned by the Exodus Charter."  And while by this point everyone more or less interpreted that particular clause as moot (Miller and Bryan's relationship, along with Harper and Monty's, were common knowledge), none of those four were the other's commanding officer.  Kane had ethical concerns (though both Abby and Bellamy informed him repeatedly that he was overthinking it); he worried sometimes whether, as Chancellor and head of the guard, a point might come in which he'd be asked to choose between having Bellamy as his right hand or as his lover, and he wasn't ready to make that choice until he'd weighed all the options more thoroughly.

And of course it was all or nothing, which made things complicated.  Abby couldn't be spotted in the guard tower, fingers tangled in the belt loops of Bellamy's jeans as he kissed her breathless up against the wall, without creating the instant and terrible assumption that she was being unfaithful to Kane, while anyone who had walked in on the two men on the couch in the chancellor's office last night would accuse Kane of being unfaithful to Abby.  So until there was a way to navigate the complexities of full disclosure, for now, nobody knew about the three of them except for Raven (who had thus far demonstrated what they all felt to be a remarkably uncharacteristic level of empathy and tact). 

In public, both Kane and Abby treated Bellamy with a degree of warm, friendly affection that allowed them at least enough freedom to touch each other.  Kane could let himself lay a hand on Bellamy's shoulder during a guard briefing, for example; Abby could hug him when he returned after a four-day scouting trip with Miller. 

But that was all.

It was difficult, and wearying, and it made them all a little sad.  Every night, as Bellamy disentangled his arms from them and pulled his clothes back on in the chilly darkness between midnight and dawn, kissing them both goodbye before silently vanishing into the hallway so he could be back in his room before he was spotted, Abby found herself wondering why - if the world was going to end in six months anyway - they couldn't just let themselves for once spend an entire night together.  She always slept better when she was wrapped up tightly in both their arms, feeling Bellamy's breath warm and soft against the back of her neck and Kane's gentle heartbeat beneath her cheek.

But for now, this was what they had - rushed, desperate kisses up against a cold metal wall, hands tangled in hair, bodies pressed together in the guard tower's one hidden corner, and as Bellamy's lips trailed across Abby's mouth and cheeks and throat and shoulders, hands sliding up inside her shirt to palm the bare skin of her back, she loved him so much that even the secrecy felt worth it, if it was the cost of having him in her life like this.

“I love you,” he murmured into her neck as she stroked his curls and finally, with miserable reluctance, tore herself away. 

“I love you too,” she whispered back.  “Take care of Marcus while I’m gone.”

Bellamy nodded, looking down shyly with that embarrassed half-smile that melted her heart every time, and muttered “I will” without looking up at her.  She stretched up on tiptoe to kiss him one last time, then disappeared down the ladder and was gone.

* * *

They wheeled the first barrels of moonshine out into the courtyard around three in the afternoon, and by sundown, absolutely everyone was drunk.

Despite all of Abby’s prodding to take the night off, Kane took one look at the guard roster and decided against it.  The two guards posted to the rear gates – on the other side of camp, far away from the fire pit and the moonshine and anything remotely resembling fun – were Harper and Bryan.  And though they were too professional to come to Kane and beg to get out of duty so they could go get drunk with their boyfriends, it seemed unfair to make them spend the whole night alone in the dark with no company but each other while everyone else got to enjoy themselves.  He finished up his work just as the shift change began at eight o'clock and, with a silent apology to the image of a sighing, disapproving Abby, he zipped on his jacket and made his way to the rear gates to spell at least one of them off.

Bryan was alone when he got there; Harper hadn't arrived yet, which made his decision easier.  “Congratulations,” he said dryly as Bryan leaped to his feet, “you’ve won a free pass.”

“What?”

“I’m taking the rest of your shift.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.  Now get out of here and go find Nate before I change my mind.”

“This is really nice of you, sir,” said Bryan, picking up the jacket he’d been sitting on and dusting it off.  “I’m sorry you guys have to miss the party, though.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, feel sorry for Harper.”

“I was only three minutes late!” exclaimed Harper, dashing up just as Bryan was headed back towards the campfire.  “What did I miss?”

“I stopped by to spell one of you off from your shift -"

“Because Abby’s gone so you have nothing to do for the rest of the night anyway?”

“That is _exactly_ the kind of attitude that gets Bryan a night off and not you,” he retorted as a laughing Bryan scurried away.

“Hold up, did you pick him instead of me because I was late, or because I sassed you?”

“Both.”

She shook her head in mock disappointment.  “You know, for a guy I tried _so hard_ to keep from getting executed – “

Kane gave up.

“ _Fine,”_ he snapped.  “Fine.  You can go too.  Go be drunk and irresponsible and seventeen –“

“Eighteen.”

“Fine.  But you cannot use that excuse again for the next two weeks.”

“Deal,” she said brightly, ruffling his hair affectionately as she strode away.  She hadn’t sat down, hadn’t even taken off her jacket, which showed just how confident she’d been all along that he would let her go too.  He was getting too soft with these kids, he thought, watching with something surprisingly close to fondness as Harper raced through the shadows towards the commotion on the other side of camp, catching up with Bryan just as he turned the corner.

He tugged off his jacket, folded it neatly on the ground to keep the dirt off the inner lining, and sat down with his back to the high metal wall of the Ark, gazed down the sloping hill at the dark empty fields below, and sighed.

Four hours to go.

_You’re welcome, Harper._

* * *

 He didn’t mind the quiet, actually.  There was something soothing about it.  Far, far away, the whole vast bulk of Alpha Station between them, he could hear the muffled din of a wild party in motion.  From time to time he could even pick out individual voices – here a loud whoop from Raven, there an exuberant cry from Jasper that a fresh barrel had just been tapped.  The guards on duty in the tower – older and seasoned, officers who had served under Kane on the Ark – had a far more stimulating shift ahead of them; in addition to being posted at the only entrance anyone ever used (the back gate guard shift was a mere formality and everyone knew it), since the guards were also what passed for internal security amidst the Sky People, it would fall on the two of them to intervene if any fighting or reckless behavior broke out.

Meanwhile, alone under a starry indigo sky, Marcus leaned his head back against the cool metal wall and listened to the distant sounds of a wailing blues song from Jasper’s music player (piped through the outdoor speakers Raven had rigged up for just such nights as this) and felt something like peace.

Maybe Abby had been right.  He had little interest in shots of moonshine or a mob of screaming nineteen-year-olds, but maybe he did need a night away from his desk.  A few hours to breathe, and think.

Then, “Mind if I join you?” came a gruff low voice, and before a startled Kane could even recover, Bellamy dropped to the ground to sit beside him.

Kane looked over his shoulder, but Bellamy shook his head, smiling, reading his thoughts before Kane even spoke them.

“Just me,” he said.  “I told Harper I would take over her shift and keep you company.  Nobody followed me.” 

“Good,” said Kane in a low voice, reaching out to cup Bellamy’s cheek.  “So I can do this.”  And then he bent his head and kissed him.

Neither of them had ever kissed men before, until the first time they’d kissed each other all those weeks ago, and it was still an intoxicating sensation they weren’t used to yet.  Abby was small and soft, but alive with sharp, potent energy.  Like holding a tiny lightning bolt in your arms.  She made them both feel big, protective, like a wall between her and the world, when they cradled her close to their chests.  But it was so different with each other; Bellamy could match Kane nearly height for height, and it was still a shockingly erotic sensation to feel the pulsing, powerful force of a big man’s body pressed up hard against their own. 

Bellamy’s mouth was hot and hard against Kane’s and he kissed him like he’d been thinking about kissing him all day (which, in fact, he had).  His tongue slipped softly over Kane’s lips, teasing them open, as they melted into each other, falling deeper and deeper into the kiss until they both finally had to pull apart, breathless and dizzy and beginning to see stars.

“Hi,” said Bellamy, a little stupidly, leaning his forehead against Kane’s while his chest rose and fell, fighting to catch his breath, and Kane burst out laughing.

“Hi,” he said back.  “Come here.”  And he held out his arms, pulling Bellamy into them to rest his head against Kane’s shoulder. 

They sat there for a long time in peaceful silence, looking up at the stars, listening to Jasper’s music and the distant voices, and only the absence of Abby prevented it from being absolute perfect contentment.  But Kane remembered her words from this morning, and every time he leaned his head to press a soft kiss on Bellamy’s hair, he wondered.

The three of them had spent some portion of nearly every night together in the past month, and Kane has lost count of all the different ways they had found to bring each other pleasure.  But there was one thing he wanted very, very badly to do with Bellamy that they had not yet worked up the courage to attempt.  They’d been thwarted, the first few weeks, by Bellamy’s healing gunshot wound; he’d wanted Kane to take him that way that very first time, but Kane had demurred.  “It wouldn’t be gentle,” he’d cautioned the boy, sending shivers down his spine, and insisted they wait until he was fully healed.  Which he had been, for at least a week or so, but now they were both suddenly too shy to bring up with each other what had felt strangely easy in the reckless throes of their very first night together. 

 _But maybe,_ Kane thought.  _Maybe tonight._

Maybe, finally, they were both ready.

* * *

An hour passed, then two.  It was quiet and peaceful.  They talked sometimes, and kissed sometimes.  They held each other’s hands.  They watched the stars.  This amount of uninterrupted time together was an almost incomprehensible luxury, for two people who only ever got to kiss in secret.  For Bellamy, who had to sneak out of Kane and Abby’s bedroom every night like a criminal, it was impossibly soothing just to let himself sink down against Kane’s shoulder and be held.  For Kane, who had to carefully control every expression on his face, every touch, every word when they were together in front of people, it felt like heaven just to absentmindedly stroke the back of Bellamy’s wrist with his thumb, or drop a soft kiss onto his hair. 

They were silent for a long, long time, watching a flock of birds flying in a long V shape through the night sky, passing in front of the moon like something out of a fairy tale, or a painting.  Then, “I’m sorry,” said Bellamy unexpectedly, and Kane sat up, pulling away just enough to look at him.

“For what?”

“That it can’t be like this all the time,” said Bellamy heavily, looking away at the horizon, trying unsuccessfully to dodge Kane's gentle questioning gaze.  “I mean, if it was just you and Abby, you could – but I’m the reason – “

“Stop that,” Kane murmured, shaking his head.  “Bellamy, don’t.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not because of you,” Kane reproached him gently.  “It’s because of  . . . everyone.  Circumstances.  So many different things.  It makes it all more complicated, yes.  But neither of us would trade it.”

“I’m just saying,” Bellamy began hesitantly.  “If you ever . . . if it would ever be easier to – “

“You’re stuck with us,” said Kane firmly, refusing even to let the boy finish his sentence.  Bellamy didn’t respond but reached out to rest his hand on Kane’s thigh, sinking back against him with something Kane instinctively knew was relief.

Bellamy left his hand there, and for a long time both of them were too relaxed and comfortable to do anything much about it.  But it stayed there, firm and warm, radiating heat through both their bodies as the barrier of fabric seemed to dissolve away, and Kane could almost feel the weight of it, heavy like a promise against the flesh of his thigh.  He reached out to rest his own hand on top of Bellamy’s, caressing the rough skin; then, on a whim, he turned Bellamy’s hand over and ran the very tips of his fingers, feather-light, across the palm.  It worked.  Bellamy hissed a sharp intake of breath and looked up at Kane, who smiled at him.

“Again?” asked Kane, and Bellamy nodded.  So he did it again, longer this time, the pads of his fingers breezing so delicately along the lines in Bellamy’s palm that it was scarcely a touch at all.  But it was enough to send cascades of shivers all up and down Bellamy’s back, and send a wave of heat slowly beginning to rise up between his thighs.  “Abby explained it to me once,” he went on almost absently, continuing his whisper-light, almost ticklish strokes.  “Something to do with nerve endings.  I wasn’t listening.”

“I can feel it all over,” murmured Bellamy, something like wonder in his voice, and Kane started to say something else but was struck dumb by an unexpected sound.

“What?” asked Bellamy curiously, watching Kane start, then rise to his feet.  Kane didn’t answer, but held out his hand to pull Bellamy up.  “What is it?”  He looked around for the cause of whatever disturbance or intrusion Kane had sensed, and was startled beyond reason when Kane stepped in close and dropped his hands to Bellamy’s hips.

“Dance with me,” Kane murmured, leaning close to whisper into Bellamy’s ear.  “I love this song.  I haven’t heard it in years.”

“I don’t dance,” said Bellamy, a little bit stubbornly, a rough rasp edging through his voice to cover his awkwardness and embarrassment. 

“Just because you’ve never done something before,” he said in a soft voice pulsing with excitement, “doesn’t mean you won’t like it.  Or that you won’t be very, very good at it,” he added, his grip on Bellamy’s hips tightening, the second layer of meaning impossible to ignore.

“I don’t know how to – “

“Don’t think,” Kane whispered, his lips so close to Bellamy’s ear that he could feel Kane’s warm breath in his hair.  “Don’t think.  Just feel.”

“But I don’t – “

“Latin dance is simple.  I’ll lead.  That means you just let your body follow me.  If I pull you towards me, you move forwards.  If I press against you, you move back.”

“Is it like a, do I have to count or something?”

“If you start counting, then you’ll just think of the music as being about the counting,” Kane admonished him.  “Just let yourself feel the music.”

He angled his hips to take Bellamy’s right thigh ever so slightly between both of his own.  Bellamy tried to follow him, gamely taking a step in when he felt a tug from the firm strong hands clutching his hips guiding him forward, and shifting his weight back when he felt Kane push against him.  But next to Kane’s effortless, graceful movements, he felt stiff and awkward and clumsy.

“This isn’t,” he tried to say.  “I’m not good at this.  We don’t have to – “

“I want to.”

“No, it’s okay, you tried.  But this just isn’t my thing.”  He pulled back just a little, staring at the ground, scuffing his boot in the dirt, the way he did when he was awkward or embarrassed.   Kane didn’t press him.

“If you don’t want to,” he said carefully, “of course, we don’t have to.  But Bellamy, if you _want_ to, but you’re scared to try because you’re afraid you’ll make a mistake, or you’re afraid you don’t know what you’re doing – “  He lowered one hand back to Bellamy’s waist, and Bellamy didn’t look up at him, but didn’t pull away either.  “I promise,” he murmured, “I won’t stop until you get the hang of it.”

Bellamy didn’t look at him.  “You’ve gotta stop saying things like that,” he finally murmured, still staring down at the ground.  “We can’t go inside for another hour and you’re making me crazy.”

Kane smiled.  “Come here,” he said, and pulled Bellamy into his arms.  Bellamy rested his forehead against Kane’s, eyes tightly closed, and Kane felt him soften.  He ran the palms of his hands flat up and down Bellamy’s spine, soothing him, relaxing him, feeling the tension flow out of him as their bodies melted together.

The step from holding each other, to holding each other and swaying almost imperceptibly to the smoky rhythm of the Spanish guitar, was nearly effortless.  Kane held Bellamy close, didn’t press him, didn’t push, just wrapped him in strong arms and leaned the weight of his body against the boy’s own.

“Hey,” he said softly, after a long moment, dopping a kiss onto Bellamy’s hair.  “Look.  We’re dancing.”

“This isn’t dancing, this is swaying,” Bellamy pointed out wryly.  Kane grinned.

“Halfway there,” he amended.  “But you’re getting the most important part.”

“Which is?”

“How to relax your hips,” he said, hands resting lightly on the waistband of Bellamy’s jeans.  “You were really rigid here before.  You have to soften it.”

“You’re talking like I know what that means and I don’t know what that means,” Bellamy complained, a hint of the uncomfortable tension creeping back in, but they were both temporarily distracted as the exact same song began all over again.

“Didn’t we just hear this one?”

“There’s a repeat function on Maya’s music player,” Bellamy explained.  “Sometimes when Jasper gets drunk he forgets how to turn it off.  And he won’t let anyone else touch it, so – “

As if on cue, they heard Nate Miller yell at the top of his lungs, “TURN THIS FUCKING SONG OFF!”, followed by an equally booming retort from Jasper, “I LIKE THIS FUCKING SONG!”

“PLAY THE RAMONES, YOU EMO BASTARD!”

“NUH-UH, I’M GONNA PLAY THIS ONE TEN MORE TIMES JUST ‘CAUSE YOU WERE A DICK!”

And then, as both voices collapsed into hysterical drunken laughter, accompanied by a cacophony of others, Kane turned back to Bellamy and grinned.  “Well,” he said, “since we’re going to be hearing this song at least ten times – “

“More, if Miller tries to turn the thing off again.”

“Plenty of time for a dancing lesson then,” said Kane, stepping around behind Bellamy to press his body up against him from behind.

“What are you doing?”

“Follow my hips,” Kane murmured.  “It’s easier this way.  Close your eyes.  Just move with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bellamy swallowed hard, feeling the hard weight of Kane’s powerful body press against his back, feeling strong hands slide down the side of his body.  Kane’s hands were big, his fingers long and graceful, and as they clasped firmly at his hips he felt thumbs hover lightly against his back, in the space between waistband and skin, as the very tip of each index finger skimmed lightly underneath the loose hem of his t-shirt to whisper against the muscles of Bellamy’s stomach.  He could lean his entire weight into those big hands, he thought.  He could fall from any height and those hands would catch him. 

This must be what love felt like, he thought to himself, that even in the midst of a desire so desperate that his entire body was throbbing, he had never felt more safe in his life.

All his life, Bellamy had been holding onto other people.  Nobody, until Kane and Abby, had ever held _him_ like this.

“Close your eyes,” Kane murmured, lips hovering just behind Bellamy’s ear, so close he could feel warm breath tickle the hairs on the back of his neck, could sense the faintest delicate brush of whisker against skin.  Bellamy obeyed, closing his eyes, letting everything go warm and dark, letting the world around him begin to fade away, until nothing existed but Kane and the music.

He made one perfunctory, feeble attempt to protest – “Someone could see us” – but not because he really believed it, or because he wanted Kane to stop.  It was more to do with the fact that – if he was being brutally honest with himself – he wanted Kane to push him.  Just a little.  Not past a line, not intrusively, but just enough to feel that rush of being wanted so badly that prudence files out the window.  It excited him, this sudden, strangely reckless side of the cautious and pragmatic man he knew.  The old Kane measured every word, every decision, with endless care, afraid to make another catastrophic mistake like the ones he still carried as black scars carved into his soul.  He didn’t do wild, reckless things.  And yet here he was, pressing kisses into the back of Bellamy’s neck out in the open, with a whole camp full of people within earshot.  And Bellamy wanted to hear Kane say he didn’t give a damn.  That he was done panicking about getting caught.  That it felt good, just for a minute, not to be hiding, and that anyone who objected could go fuck themselves because dammit, he wanted Bellamy and he was going to have him.

Kane didn’t say any of those things with words.  Instead, he tightened his grip – pressing into Bellamy’s hips so tightly that his thumbs found their way inside the untucked back hem of Bellamy’s t-shirt to rub lightly against the sensitive skin beneath it – and did something so startlingly unlike him that it took Bellamy’s breath away.

He pressed his whole body forward, with a gentle but relentless force, and rolled his hips against Bellamy’s ass.  Hard.

Bellamy’s mouth went suddenly dry, heart thumping like a martial drum inside his chest.  He could feel the heat and weight of an already rock-hard cock grinding hard against him, hungry, insistent, and it made him go a little shaky all over.  “Jesus,” he panted, the word tumbling out almost involuntarily.  “Kane.  Oh, God, Kane.”

“Shhhh,” the man murmured, nibbling his way down the side of Bellamy’s throat until he nearly swooned, melting back into the powerful chest holding him up and beginning to sway with his rhythm without even realizing it.  “That’s good,” Kane said approvingly between hot, bristly little kisses that Bellamy knew would leave his skin red and raw in the morning but felt so shiveringly sweet that he didn’t care.  “You’re getting it.  Just move with me.” 

Their hips undulated together to the sultry rhythm of the music, Kane’s hard cock rubbing rough and urgent through two thick layers of denim to torture Bellamy with its proximity.  It was warm and heavy and it took so little effort to imagine what it would feel like if they were naked, skin against skin.  Bellamy had never felt Kane this way before, and it was impossible not to think about what he was thinking about as their bodies melted together, hips swaying in perfect unison.  He felt himself soften and let his head loll back, opening up his throat yet further for Kane’s lips and tongue to busy themselves drawing every sensation imaginable out of each nerve ending in the hollow between collarbone and shoulder.

“This is how it works,” Kane murmured, his voice a low rumble pulsing with barely-suppressed desire.  “I lead – so I guide the movements – whether we’re going left or right, front or back.”

“You’re in control.”

“That’s right.”

“And I . . . let you.”

“You do more than that,” Kane reproved him lightly, dropping a light kiss on his earlobe.  “The submissive partner has the far more . . . physically demanding role.”  Bellamy swallowed hard.  “I’m the canvas, you’re the paint,” Kane whispered.  “The magic doesn’t happen until they come together.”

“Are we?” Bellamy asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Are we what?”

“Are we going to . . . come together.”

“That’s the idea,” Kane murmured, and the flush of heat that swept over Bellamy from head to toe felt like a sudden shock of fever.

“Submissive,” he repeated – trying to hide his nervousness with a hint of amused skepticism - and Kane chuckled.

“It’s a physical descriptor.  Not a personality one.”

“I was gonna say.”

“Though technically,” Kane added thoughtfully, “you do work for me.”

“Are you gonna make me call you ‘Sir?’”

“Now that’s an interesting thought,” Kane murmured, nuzzling a hot little kiss into Bellamy’s throat.  “Let’s hold onto that for later.”

“Kane . . .”

“Just breathe,” he whispered.  “Just be right here with me.”

Bellamy felt the hot-cold shivers racing up and down his spine begin to sizzle through his whole body, and soon he began to feel his legs grow unsteady.  Knees weak, thighs beginning to tremble, he sank back against Kane’s hard chest and felt the hands on his hips tighten to hold him up.  Kane held him close, bearing his weight, feeling him go liquid and soft as the music swept through his bloodstream. 

“You sure this is dancing?” Bellamy murmured after a long moment.  “Because it feels a whole lot like something else.”

Kane paused mid-kiss to chuckle warm and low against Bellamy’s skin.  “Are you enjoying it?”

“Why don’t you move your hands a few inches south,” Bellamy said boldly, surprising even himself, “and you’ll see exactly how much I’m enjoying it.”

“Don’t ever bluff me if you don’t want me to call it,” Kane reproved him, and shocked all the air out of Bellamy’s lungs by doing exactly what he’d dared him to, running his left hand down over the slope of hip and the hard muscled expanse of thigh to cup the swelling cock straining its way out of Bellamy’s jeans.

“Oh God,” Bellamy whimpered as Kane’s hand kneaded and pressed, his cock still grinding harder and harder against the boy’s desperately sensitive ass.  It was misery and ecstasy at the same time, as Bellamy felt himself tremble with pleasure while furiously cursing how damn many layers of clothing were still in their way.

“Forty minutes left on the clock,” Kane whispered.  “Should I make you come now and let you recover, or should I make you wait?”

“Wait for what?” Bellamy murmured, swallowing hard.

“You know exactly what.”

“Are we . . . oh God, Kane, are we – you mean, tonight?”

“The whole camp is drunk off their heads,” Kane breathed into Bellamy’s neck between kisses.  “The only sober people in Arkadia right now besides us are the guards being paid to look the other direction.  We’ll never get a better chance.”

“Does Abby know?” Bellamy whispered, struck with a sudden pang of guilt.  “I couldn’t – I don’t want to – behind her back – “

“Why do you think she left us alone on Unity Day?”  Bellamy could hear the wry smile in Kane’s voice as he gave the boy’s cock a gentle press, making him gasp. 

“So it’s okay?”

“It’s okay,” said Kane softly.  “I promise.”  The hand that had been clutching Bellamy’s hip slid up and across his chest, until Kane’s arm was wrapped tightly around him, holding him close.  He leaned his head against Bellamy’s, movements stilling just for a moment as he breathed the boy in.  “I love you so much for that,” he finally said, some strange emotion in his voice.  “That it matters to you.  That you asked.”

“I love her,” said Bellamy in a small voice, gruff with emotion, lifting his hand to where Kane’s rested over his pounding heart to interlace their fingers together.

“She loves you back,” Kane whispered, squeezing the boy’s hand.  “We love you so much.”

They swayed in silent rhythm to the music for a long time just like that, hands intertwined together, before Kane’s gentle pressure on Bellamy’s aching cock resumed, sending shivers down his spine.   “Did you decide?” Bellamy murmured, closing his eyes and beginning to melt again.

“About what?”

“Are you going to make me wait or not?”

Kane chuckled, kissing the top of his head.  “Impatient boy.”

“I’m getting close, Kane.”

“I know you are, love, I’m the one doing it.”  He considered for a moment, then gently disentangled his hand from Bellamy’s to slide flat and hard down the planes of his taut chest and begin to carefully unfasten his jeans.  “As much fun as it is to torment you with infinite delay,” he murmured, “it would help the very first time if you were more . . . relaxed.”  His hand disappeared between fabric and fabric, fondling the hot bulging weight inside the thin black cotton shorts before slipping inside and caressing the tender skin.

“ _Fuck,_ Kane,” Bellamy exclaimed as a strong hand lifted free his now fully-erect cock and began stroking it firmly, insistently, up and down.

“Just relax,” Kane whispered, his hand pumping in time to the music.  “Just dance with me.”

Their bodies undulated in unison, all Bellamy’s former stiffness and tension now evaporated.  He let the deep rolling strokes of Kane’s hips guide him, his muscles liquid and unresisting as he sank further and further into the ocean of sensations overtaking him.  The heavy hungry weight of cock pressing into his ass, the powerful hand gently cupping the aching mounds between his thighs, the hot breath rushing over his skin, the rough scritch of beard nuzzling into his throat.

“That’s good,” Kane whispered as Bellamy melted into him, breath coming hard and fast, whispery little grunts tumbling out of his lips.  “That’s very good.” 

“I’m so close,” Bellamy choked out, hips beginning to tug forward, straining for more as the pressure rose inside him.

“Maybe I should make you wait after all,” Kane teased lightly, with another hungry little nibble at the boy’s ear.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You don’t think so?”

“No, I think you like fucking with me a lot – “

“That’s true.”

“But you like _actually_ fucking me more.”

The low rumble of Kane’s delighted chuckle, muffled by the skin of Bellamy’s throat, made him smile and shiver at the same time.  “That’s very well-put,” Kane conceded.  “I suppose you deserve a reward for that.”  And without any warning, his soft gentle caresses on Bellamy’s cock became demanding, insistent.  He pressed his thumb with expert precision against the heavy ridge of vein, tracing it up and down with firm pressure as his fist tightened, warm and wet from the silky precum already glistening against the tip.

“Kane,” he whispered roughly, and the orgasm swirling up from deep inside him broke free. 

He couldn’t have held back the low, wild cries of pleasure even if he’d wanted to, but the wild chaos of Unity Day in the distance would have drowned out even a scream.  So he didn’t bite his lip or squeeze his fists together or clutch furiously at Kane’s hair (or his jacket, or the sheets) to swallow the sounds back down.  Instead, he let his body make the sound it wanted to make – which was a hoarse, gasping, staccato groaning of “oh” intermingled with Kane’s name, over and over.  Kane kissed his neck over and over as he held his cock steady, pumping it with long smooth strokes, ribbons of silky white disappearing into the tall grass and weeds.

“Rather pretty, in the moonlight,” Kane observed almost absently, and an out-of-breath Bellamy burst out laughing.

“Only you would be able to find an aesthetic moment in making me come all over the ground,” he said dryly, and Kane chuckled but didn’t deny it.

“Here,” he said, turning Bellamy around and neatly tucking him back in, hands gentle on the now-achingly sensitive cock, before carefully zipping his jeans closed.  “There, now you’re safe.  All traces gone.”  He kissed the boy’s mouth, hot and hungry – the urgency reminding Bellamy with a potent force that the other man hadn’t come yet – and handed him his coat.  “Go wait for me in bed,” he murmured.  “We shouldn’t be seen walking in together anyway.  And besides, I’ll have an impossible time keeping my hands off you if you stay out here.”

He tilted Bellamy’s chin up to kiss him, lightly at first and then deepening, the sultry Latin rhythm of the one endlessly-repeating melody seeping into their bones.  But Bellamy was suddenly reluctant to tear himself away.  “Let’s just stay like this,” he murmured, resting his forehead against Kane’s.  “Please.  Let’s just stay here, for a little while longer, where it’s dark and it’s quiet and we don’t have to hide behind a locked door.”

Kane closed his eyes, his hands on Bellamy’s shoulders, thumbs caressing the bare skin just on the other side of his t-shirt collar, and opened his mouth to speak.

Then, “TWENTY-TWENTY-TWENTY-FOUR HOURS TO GOOOOOOOO, I WANNA BE SEDATED!” wailed an earsplitting voice from Raven’s speakers, so loud they began to buzz and pop, causing the dull rumble of the sleepy drunk crowd to explode into violent protestations. 

Kane looked at Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at Kane.

“There goes the quiet,” Bellamy said ruefully.  “Guess that’s the end of our dancing lesson.”

Kane kissed him, brief and hot and hungry, before pulling away.  “I’ll meet you in my room when my shift ends,” he murmured, “and why don’t we see how well you do on the final exam.”


	3. Chapter 3

David Miller arrived to spell Kane off right on time.

“I think the party’s finally beginning to die down,” he observed dryly.  “I just came from the food tents and I think I stepped over two dozen kids who just fell asleep where they were sitting.  Wasn’t Bellamy with you?”

“I . . . sent him to bed,” Kane replied, not untruthfully, then swiftly changed the subject.  “So they’re finally beginning to tire themselves out, are they?  I wondered why it was suddenly so quiet.”

“They’re dropping like flies,” said David.  “And it’s not just the kids.  I swear, I think the whole camp is practically unconscious. A Grounder army could come storming through those gates and nobody would even notice.”

“Well, you’ll have a quieter shift than we did, now that they’ve turned the music off,” Kane observed, and the fraction of a smile tugged at David’s mouth.

“They didn’t ‘turn it off,’ exactly,” he amended, taking a small metal rectangle out of his pocket. 

“You stole Jasper’s music player?”

“I _confiscated_ it, to prevent a public disturbance,” David corrected him. 

“Meaning . . . “

“That my son was being an idiot, and people are trying to sleep.”  He handed it to Kane.  “It should probably disappear until everyone sobers up tomorrow,” he advised him.  “I’d lock it away somewhere inside, just in case.”

“I think that’s an excellent plan,” said Kane, pocketing the device with a conspiratorial grin.  “I’m impressed.  You’ve done a good night’s work already and you’re not even on the clock yet.”  He clapped the other man on the shoulder, bid him goodnight, and quietly disappeared into the side door that led to the Ark’s living quarters.

* * *

 

He passed no one and heard no signs of life as he moved through the halls to his room.  David was right; most of the camp had passed out around the campfire and would be in a drunken stupor until morning.  He heard heavy snoring behind a few doors, but most had been left open, their occupants dozing in a fog of moonshine fumes outside.

The Chancellor’s quarters were the only ones in the whole of Arkadia with at least a modicum of privacy.  Alpha Station’s residential sector survived the crash mostly intact, and most of the Sky People had moved into the long corridor of small private rooms that extended in a ring around the central hub where Medical, Operations and Engineering were now located.  But the Chancellor had always lived above the Chancellor’s office, a flight of narrow metal stairs leading up from the office door to a spacious three-room suite, separated from the main residential wing by Operations and some storage rooms.  Kane had never formally lived here; Abby had taken up residence after he had handed her the Chancellor pin before leaving to find Clarke, and she had remained there until Pike’s election – after which, with nowhere else to go, she had packed up her small box of possessions and made herself at home in a small, disused storage room behind Medical, with a salvaged cot and two discarded storage crates for her clothes.  Kane, whose quarters were perfectly comfortable, insisted that Abby take the room back when they returned from Polis as co-Chancellors; when she resisted, he simply overruled her by collecting her things from the dingy medical storeroom and moving them back to the Chancellor’s quarters himself.  The three of them slept here most nights, given that Abby had by far the best bed for  . . . well, anything that required a bed.

Kane stopped by his quarters to drop off his guard jacket before making his quiet way to the office and up the stairs.  Bellamy had left the door unlocked for him, and folded his clothes up neatly on the couch, boots lined up on the floor below.  It was dark except one lamp, casting a faint amber light across the bed where Bellamy lay.  He’d dozed off waiting for Kane, his soft hair jet-black against the white pillows in the dim lamplight.

Kane undressed quietly, placing his clothes neatly on top of Bellamy’s, retrieved a small gray plastic bottle from its concealed place deep inside one of Abby’s dresser drawers, set it on the bedside table, and climbed into bed. 

“I wasn’t asleep,” the boy mumbled sleepily as Kane wrapped his arms around his back, pressing kisses into his neck and stroking his hair.

“Of course not,” Kane agreed, hiding a smile.  “I never said you were.”

“Just . . . resting my eyes,” he murmured, settling back into Kane’s arms, soft and boneless and yielding.  His skin was warm from sleep and tasted like he’d washed before climbing into bed; beneath his lips and tongue Kane discovered the faint herbal sweetness of mint and rosemary from the liquid soap in the dormitory showers.

“Of course you were,” Kane said agreeably, voice muffled by the gentle little kisses he was busily pressing into the hollow of Bellamy’s throat.

“But I still want to,” Bellamy added.  “To . . . do what you were saying we were gonna do.  I just . . .”  He raised a drowsy arm to clasp Kane’s where it lay across his chest.  “I like this part too,” he mumbled sleepily.  “And I always leave after.  So we never get to do this.”

“Don’t leave,” Kane said suddenly, surprising both of them, and Bellamy rolled over to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t leave, after.  Sleep here instead.”

“Everyone knows that Abby’s gone,” he pointed out.  “How the hell am I supposed to explain myself if someone sees me coming down the stairs from her room in the morning?  Let alone with _you_.”

“We’ll make something up.  We’ll say . . . I don’t know, we’ll say I was drunk and you slept on the couch to keep an eye on me.”

“No one will believe that.”

“Fine, then _you_ were drunk, I put you in the bed and I slept on my couch to make sure you were all right.”

“Why would either of us have picked Abby’s bed, with an extra flight of stairs, if we were drunk? Why wouldn’t we just go back to one of our own?  There’s only one reason we’d be up here and everyone would figure it out.”

“Bellamy – “

“And besides, no one saw us drinking.  We were on watch.  The whole camp knew that.”  He gave Kane a sad little smile, the look of someone resigned to making the best of it, and Kane felt his heart shatter inside his chest.  “It’s okay, Kane,” he said, trying to reassure him.  “It’s okay. We still have a few hours.  As long as I’m gone before the shift change.”

“Please don’t,” Kane whispered.  “Bellamy, please.  Don’t go.”

“What if we get caught?”

“Then we tell the truth.”

“Are we . . . are we really ready for that?”

“I don’t know,” Kane admitted.  “I don’t know.  But I just . . . “  He stroked Bellamy’s soft dark hair, still ever so faintly damp from his shower, and felt a fierce ache of affection so deep in his bones it knocked him sideways.  Bellamy had bathed for him, had come to bed fresh and clean and eager, had left the good pillow empty beside his head for Kane while he took the thinner, flatter one.  Kane thought about Bellamy lying here alone next to the empty pillow, waiting with clean hair and rosemary-scented skin for his lover to lie down beside him, so willing and ready, all the while knowing their time would be up again in just a few hours and their love would go back to being a dark hidden thing that lived behind locked doors, and suddenly the thought of sending him out alone into the dark corridor like he was a wicked secret of which Kane was ashamed was too devastatingly painful to bear.

“Stay,” he begged.  “Don’t go back to your room.  Don't leave in the dark all alone, like it’s wrong, like it’s shameful.”

“Kane – “

“I just want to hold you,” Kane whispered, the words tumbling out of him with a searing honesty, and Bellamy met his eyes, startled.  “I want to fall asleep next to you,” he told the boy softly, a plea in his voice.  “I want to hold you while you sleep.  Please don’t go back to your room alone.  Please stay with me.”  He kissed the boy’s mouth, warm and gentle.  “Please.  Just for tonight.  Please, love.  Stay.” 

Bellamy didn’t say anything, but there was something in the tight clenching of his jaw, in the way he blinked his dark eyelashes over and over, that made Kane’s heart ache.  He didn’t answer Kane with words – he was feeling too many things to trust himself to speak – but he said yes with his body instead.  He reached over to slip his arms around the older man’s back and pull him close, shifting his weight so Kane could roll comfortably on top of him, and parted his lips in invitation, asking to be kissed.

It changed everything between them, to know they had _time._   No hasty, frantic mouths and hands in hallways or dark corners or Kane’s office.  No desperate urgency as they lay beside Abby under the sheets, trying not to watch the clock to see how much time they had left together.   They didn’t have to rush.  They didn’t think about the clock at all.  With the burden of haste lifted, they felt suddenly liberated; the entire night was theirs, to do anything they wanted.  And while the ghost of the thing they both knew they were going to do hovered in the air between them, there was no hurry to get there.  No one had anywhere to be.

For a long time, they just lay there, warm beneath the covers, arms and legs tangled together, kissing each other with luxurious slowness.  Kane held himself above Bellamy, braced on his forearms, feeling the rhythm of the boy’s pounding heart where it pressed against his chest.  Bellamy’s lips were soft and dry, his hands warm – almost hot – against Kane’s back. Neither of them had any idea how much time passed that way before they both began to feel the air around them change, almost thicken, like a gathering electrical charge between their bodies.  Bellamy’s soft cock began to stiffen where it pressed gently into Kane’s hip, and a shiver ran from Kane’s spine through his entire body to pulse into his own cock in response.  They each felt the other's arousal and suddenly the kiss changed direction, swinging as abruptly as a weathervane from tender softness to something much more raw and urgent. 

It was beginning.

Bellamy shifted beneath Kane, thighs parting to cradle the other man’s pelvis against his own, brushing their cocks together and shooting fire through both their bodies.  Kane’s mouth parted in a soft, hushed gasp as he felt Bellamy’s hips rise involuntarily against his own, and then his heart stopped as the boy tilted up his angular chin to lean in and begin to suck, ever so lightly, on Kane’s warm tongue.

“Oh God,” Kane moaned, shivering as Bellamy pulled away, heavy cock aching into hardness between his thighs.

“Please,” Bellamy murmured.  “Please, Kane.  I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Kane pressed him, looking deep into his eyes, wanting to make certain. 

“You told me, the first time,” Bellamy murmured, “you told me it wouldn’t be gentle.  I wasn’t ready then.  But I’m ready now.”

Kane smiled.  “It wouldn’t have been gentle _then_ ,” he agreed, something almost like embarrassment in his tone.  “Not after feeling . . . all those things I felt, building up inside me for so long.  It took everything I had not to tear your clothes off in the back of that Rover.”  Bellamy was bizarrely delighted by this, both amused and aroused by Kane’s frank admission of how overcome by desire he’d been that day, and Kane was amused at _his_ amusement.  “I promise I can control myself,” he added dryly, rolling off Bellamy to climb out of bed and go dig through his pile of clothes.  “I can behave like an adult this time.”

“What are you doing?”

“I have a present for you.  Two, actually.”

Bellamy watched him quizzically as he pulled the small device out of the pocket of his jeans, then chuckled as he realized what it was.  “Oh, Jasper’s just gonna _kill_ you.”

“Only if he finds out I’m the one who has it.  Which he won’t.  If he suspects anyone, it will be one – or possibly both – of the Millers.  Either way, not our concern.  Don’t worry,” he added, “I promise I’ll give it back.”

“What are we gonna use it for?” Bellamy asked, but fell silent as Kane – turning the volume down low to nearly a whisper – clicked a few buttons and the room filled with the faint sounds of sultry Spanish guitar.

“Dancing lessons,” Kane said, walking back over to the bed and picking up the small bottle he’d left on the nightstand.

“What’s that?”

“A little present from Abby.”

Bellamy eyed the tiny, nondescript bottle quizzically.  “What the hell is ‘LIQUID SILICON/OXYGEN SUSPENSION?’”

“She figured it was less likely to be swiped from the supply cupboards in Medical if she made it sound boring.”

“What is it?”

“Something we need for tonight,” he murmured.  “Something that’s going to feel really good.”

Bellamy swallowed, hard, and watched in nervous silence as Kane prepared the bed.  He fluffed up the one good pillow for Bellamy’s head, but moved the second one about halfway down the mattress, then tugged the sheets and blankets aside; the room was already warm, and would only get warmer, so they didn’t need any coverings.  “I’m going to get you ready now,” he murmured.  “Lie down on your stomach.”  Once Bellamy was settled, he adjusted the second pillow so it slotted beneath the boy’s hips, lifting them up a few inches off the mattress.  “Are you comfortable?”

Bellamy nodded without looking at him, and Kane could see he was trembling.

“We’ll go slow,” he murmured.  “I’m just going to touch you for a little while first, that’s all.  Okay?  Just my hands.”  Bellamy nodded again, closing his eyes, cheek sinking down against the pillow, and Kane got to work. 

He poured a small pool of the glistening lubricant between his palms, rubbing them together to warm it, before cupping the taut, hard curves of Bellamy’s ass in his hands and slowly, gently, beginning to massage it.  Bellamy gave a contented little sigh, melting down into the mattress, as Kane’s powerful hands slipped wetly along his warm skin, touching him everywhere, stroking the tension out of his powerful upper thighs and prodding knots out of the base of his spine.  He always circled back to the hollow between the boy’s buttocks, but he was skilled at massaging the tension out of tired muscles (Abby had schooled him well) and soon he felt Bellamy relax and soften beneath his hands.  Once the boy seemed to have gotten used to him, he zeroed in more closely, fingers hot and deliciously slippery, his touch both firm and gentle at the same time, as he began to trace circles around Bellamy’s entrance.  The lubricant was silky and soft, so when he lightly slipped one fingertip inside, Bellamy gave a shaky little sigh but didn’t even flinch.  “That’s good,” Kane murmured to him approvingly.  “You’re already doing so good.” 

Bellamy hummed an inarticulate sound of pleasure into the pillow as Kane kept going, carefully and painstakingly working him open, prodding his finger deeper and massaging the tight little ring of muscle until it opened before him enough for a second finger to join the first one.  Bellamy gasped a little at this, so Kane’s hand paused before going on, but the boy shook his head. 

‘S’good,” he mumbled into the pillow.  “You can . . . more . . . “

So Kane kept going, deft and precise, pausing now and then to run hot gentle hands all over the boy’s buttocks and thighs to keep his body soft and pliable.  By the time Bellamy was relaxed enough for a third finger, his breath was coming rough and shaky, and Kane could see his cock pressing iron-hard into the pillow beneath his hips.

“Bellamy,” Kane whispered, after a long, long time had passed this way.  “Are you ready?”  Bellamy nodded eagerly, leaning up on his elbows to turn and look at Kane.  “Would you . . . would you like to get _me_ ready?” he murmured, heart pounding, mouth dry, not sure why _he_ was suddenly nervous.  Bellamy nodded again.  Kane stood and came around the side of the bed, holding out the little bottle to Bellamy, then moved close enough to the bed that his knees bumped the mattress, his aching, iron-hard cock now within Bellamy’s reach.

“Does this go . . . on you?” Bellamy asked, a little shyly.  “How much?  Like, how wet?”

“ _Abby_ wet,” Kane murmured with a wry smile, and Bellamy chuckled back.  It eased some of the nervous tension between them, thinking of her.  They were used to doing this with Abby, to watching each other do it with Abby; it was not such a frightening step, after all, from that to doing it with each other. 

“Pour a little into your hands and rub them together,” Kane instructed him. “To warm it up.”

That was the last direction he had to give; Bellamy was perfectly able to take it from there.  This, he knew how to do to perfection, and his hands on Kane’s cock were practiced and deft.  Kane gasped at the shocking sensation of hot slick wetness as Bellamy stroked up and down his shaft, cupping the heavy weight of the mounds at the base of his cock and swirling lightly around the tip at the places he knew Kane was the most sensitive. 

“Don’t make me -” Kane choked out, “I mean – it defeats the purpose if you – “

“I know what I’m doing,” Bellamy reproached him, tightening his grip and sliding his fist up and down, down and up, until every inch of skin was glistening and coated.  Then he pulled his hands away and looked up at Kane.

Kane looked down at him.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath.  “I’m ready if you are.”

“I’m ready if you are,” said Bellamy, settling back onto his stomach, but despite the attempt at casual bravado in his voice, Kane could see that his hands were trembling just a little bit.

“Just pretend like we’re dancing again,” Kane whispered, lowering his body gently over him, hands skimming up and down Bellamy’s hips.  “Just relax and breathe and feel the music.  It’s just like dancing.”  Bellamy nodded breathlessly.  Kane reached out to take Bellamy’s hand in his own, caressing it gently, rocking his hips softly against Bellamy’s from behind.  “Just like dancing,” he murmured again.  “Just move with me.”

“Okay,” Bellamy whispered, and Kane swallowed hard.

“Okay,” he said back.

Gently, carefully, he slid the palms of his hands down Bellamy’s back to the firm, rounded planes of his ass and kneaded it tenderly open as he slowly, slowly pressed the very tip of his cock ever so slightly inside.

Bellamy gasped, his entire body tensing up and slamming shut, causing Kane to pull back out immediately, but Bellamy shook his head.  “No, no, it’s good,” he whimpered, “it’s good, I was just – “

“Is it strange?”

“Yeah.”

“Different from when it was just my hand?”  Bellamy nodded. “Should we stop?”

“No, please, don’t stop, I just . . . “

“We’ll go really slow,” murmured Kane, leaning in to kiss the back of his neck.  “Okay?” 

Bellamy nodded.

“Why don’t you roll onto your side,” Kane suggested, and he sank down onto the mattress beside him, wrapping his arms around Bellamy’s chest from behind and peppering the back of his neck with kisses.  “We can do it this way too,” he murmured.  “So I can hold you.  Is this good?”  Bellamy nodded. “Remember the first time?” Kane said quietly into his ear.  “Where I told you that anytime you wanted to say stop – “

“Or any time I wanted more – “

“Don’t be afraid to tell me exactly what you want,” he told the boy, stroking his hair.  Bellamy nodded again, breathing hard, and then finally, finally, they began.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I cannot encourage you too strongly to play the Kellamy sexytimes song as the soundtrack to your reading experience.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOKfHXVLnkY

 Their angle was shallow at first, letting Bellamy get used to the sensation of hard, heavy thickness pressing him open further and further.  It didn’t hurt, exactly but it was new, and he found himself tensing up from time to time, clenching his fists and heaving deep rough breaths until the other man's gentle caresses soothed him back down.  Kane stroked Bellamy’s arms and shoulders, he pressed light kisses into his neck, he murmured quietly into the boy’s ear with warm breath that made him shiver.  He went slow and shallow, gliding just a few inches in and out at a time, feeling waves of pleasure overtake him, and by the time Bellamy mumbled a rough, hoarse “more,” both of them were aching all over.

“Are you okay?” Kane whispered into Bellamy's warm skin.  “Is this okay?”

Bellamy nodded, eyes pressed closed, brow furrowed as if in furious concentration.  “S’good,” he muttered, voice muffled by the pillow pressed beneath his cheek.  “I – _oh,_ oh _fuck_ – I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I like it too,” Kane murmured, hand sliding down to palm Bellamy’s hip as he let his lips rest hotly against the soft little hollow at the back of his neck where caramel skin vanished into thick black curls.  “You feel so good.”

“Can you . . . can we . . . “

“More?” 

“More,” the boy repeated desperately, a plea in his gravelly voice.

“I want to look at you,” Kane breathed into his skin, lips brushing faintly against the back of his ear. “I want to see your face.”  Bellamy nodded breathlessly, fists clutching helplessly at the sheets, as Kane gently, slowly pulled out of him and shifted his weight off the boy’s back.  “Here,” he murmured, guiding Bellamy by the shoulder to help him roll over and settle back against the pillows.  “If this is uncomfortable, let me know,” he cautioned him.  Bellamy nodded again, biting his lip slightly, his expression an endearing blend of nervousness and raw desire. 

Kane gently guided him into position, moving between Bellamy’s parted knees and sliding a strong hand beneath each thigh to lift the boy’s legs around his back.  “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

“We can, at this angle, we can . . . go a little deeper.  If you want.”  Bellamy’s eyes widened with an expression of eagerness mixed with apprehension.  Kane smiled at him.  “I’ll go slow,” he reassured him, ducking his head to press a gentle kiss against Bellamy’s thigh.

“You don’t . . . “  Bellamy swallowed hard.  “You don’t have to,” he muttered, almost shyly, in a voice so quiet Kane barely heard it.  “I mean . . . if you want.”

“Say it,” Kane whispered as Bellamy’s arms slid up his arms to wrap around his back, pulling him in close.  “I like it when you say it.”

“More,” Bellamy groaned softly, and Kane gripped Bellamy’s hips in his strong hands to lift him off the pillows and plunge his cock back inside.

They began slowly, Kane pushing with gentle but insistent firmness deeper and deeper inside him, Bellamy gasping as he felt himself stretched open from the inside out.  Kane let himself go further this time, pressing in further and further as he watched Bellamy’s eyes widen in stunned pleasure at the new sensation.  His arms closed powerfully around Kane’s back, holding him in place, pulling him suddenly downward, their bodies locked into a knot as Kane’s cock surged sharply and abruptly up inside Bellamy.  The change in angle did something brand-new, and Bellamy cried out in something that sounded like pain, but wasn’t, as the head of that pulsing, heavy cock deep inside him nudged at some deeply-hidden place where no one had ever touched him before.

“What,” he gasped, unable to say anything more articulate.  “What . . .”

“Oh, that’s called your prostate,” Kane murmured in a husky voice, nibbling a little at Bellamy’s ear.  “It’s easier for me to reach at this angle.  Very sensitive to contact.”

“Did . . . oh, _fuck,_ Kane, oh my _God_ . . . did _Abby_ teach you how to do this?”

Kane smiled, but didn’t respond, simply pressed in deeper, tapping again and again at the hidden pleasure spot until Bellamy was almost in tears.

“Please,” he begged wildly.  “Please.  Please, please.”

“You feel extraordinary,” Kane marveled, gazing down at him in wonder.  “Oh God, Bellamy.  I can’t believe how good you feel.”

“Kane, I . . . oh, fuck . . . I can’t . . . Kane, please . . .”

“Say it, love.”

“More,” Bellamy whimpered, and Kane’s hips picked up speed, Bellamy’s rising to meet him over and over.  Kane leaned down to seize the boy’s softly parted mouth with his own, licking into him hot and hard and swallowing the delicious sounds of his muffled, desperate groaning. 

“Oh, _fuck,_ Bellamy,” Kane murmured, lips drifting from Bellamy’s mouth to his cheek to his jaw, kissing him so frantically he left a trail of rose-colored beard scratches behind him.  “You make me feel so good.”  Bellamy’s hips lifted over and over, crashing into Kane’s, the hot slap of flesh on flesh driving them both on.  Bellamy ducked his head to the hollow of Kane’s throat to kiss him, peppering sharp little bites along the flesh, causing Kane to let loose a low, loud groan of pleasure that he didn’t try even a little bit to silence.

“Oh Jesus,” murmured Bellamy, “what are we gonna do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m about to come,” he whispered, “and it feels like you’re close too.”

“I’m so close, love,” Kane breathed in a choked, rough gasp.

“Should we stop, and finish ourselves off?” Bellamy suggested.  “So it’s quieter.”

“I don’t care.”

“People will hear us if you keep going like that.”

“I don’t care who hears, Bellamy,” Kane fired back.  “I don’t _care.”_

“You will when people start asking who you were fucking in Abby’s quarters while she’s away.”

“No, I won’t.”

 “People will hear – “

“I don’t care, I don’t _care_ ,” Kane hissed desperately, “they’re all drunk and half-dead anyway.”

“Kane – “

“We _always_ have to be quiet, we _always_ have to be secretive, and I _hate_ it,” Kane burst forth with a vehemence that stunned Bellamy into silence.  “It’s _awful._   It’s an _awful_ way to live.  Bellamy, I _love_ you, I want you to be with us for the rest of our lives, but am I never going to get to hear what you really sound like when you come because we’re all so damned terrified of your sister?”

The silence that followed was awful.

Bellamy froze beneath him, body shuddering to a halt as his hands grew still against Kane’s shoulders, and there was an interminable pause as unsaid things hung heavy in the air between them.  Kane seemed almost _angry_ – but not, Bellamy thought, at him.

A sharp dagger of guilt sliced through him as he realized how selfish he’d been.  He hated leaving them in the dark every morning before dawn, slinking back to his quarters like a criminal; he’d resented the silence and shame, but he’d only thought about the way it affected _himself._   He hadn’t stopped to think that it ran in both directions – that Kane and Abby thought they were protecting him, that the secrecy was painful for them too.  That every day he couldn’t tell anyone about their relationship was a day that he treated them like they didn’t matter.  It had been months since the first time he’d slept with Abby, yet outside this bedroom it was still only Raven who knew.  And it had certainly been mutual – it was no one’s fault, no one had pushed secrecy and deceit on the others – but Bellamy realized with a sudden heart-shattering pang of grief that he had never stopped to think about the sadness of the two people he was leaving behind him, every time he crept silently out of their bedroom to return to his own.  There was a part of him that somehow believed that, because they had each other, their suffering was less than his.

Kane’s clenched jaw softened at the stricken look on his face.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, letting go of the boy’s thighs and pulling softly out of him to crawl up to the head of the bed, cradling Bellamy’s face in his rough hands and kissing his mouth gently.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to be harsh.” 

“It’s okay, Kane.”

“No, it isn’t.  I should never – Bellamy, I didn’t mean – “

“We’re okay, we’re good, I promise,” he insisted, desperately trying to force enough of a smile to erase the raw, mortified pain from Kane’s face.  “We’re okay.”

“It’s complicated,” Kane whispered, “it’s so complicated, I shouldn’t have said that, I shouldn’t have pushed you.  We’re all at fault, we’ve all been too afraid, and I don’t know where we go from here, but I just . . . “  He kissed him again, aching with love.  “I wish things were easy, even just for a little while,” he said in a hollow, desolate voice.  “But they never are.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Bellamy tried to reassure him, feeling his love for Kane send a thousand tiny cracks running through his heart at the sadness in the older man’s eyes.  “It’s gonna be okay.”

Kane rested his head wearily on Bellamy’s shoulder, heavy with sadness, desire forgotten for the moment as Bellamy stroked his bare back with soothing hands.  It was an odd sensation, giving comfort to Kane, but not an unpleasant one.  It felt good, to be needed like this. 

“You think we love you less than we love each other,” Kane said suddenly, reading every thought on Bellamy’s face, the words tumbling out of his mouth almost against his will.  “You still don’t trust this.”

“Kane – “

“I knew the first moment I met you,” he murmured, shocking all the breath out of Bellamy’s lungs.  “I didn’t _let_ myself know, not for a long time, but I knew.”

“You didn’t seem to like me much at first, as I recall.”

“You didn’t like me too much, either.”

“That’s fair.”

“You drove me absolutely up the wall, with your endless stubbornness,” Kane said dryly.  _“God,_ but you were a thorn in my side.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“But there was still . . . something there,” he went on thoughtfully.  “From the very first moment, there in the woods.  All covered in blood and dirt.  You were so angry and so brave and so determined, and you never stopped fighting.  You were the most . . . _alive_ person I’d ever met.”

“You saved my life that day,” Bellamy murmured, remembering, his hands running softly through Kane’s hair, and felt Kane press a soft kiss into his neck.  “There must have been times afterwards when you regretted it.”

“Don’t,” Kane said fiercely, propping up on his elbow to look at him.  “Don’t ever, Bellamy, not even as a joke.”

“So many things would be different,” Bellamy muttered in a hollow voice, tinged with bitterness.  “So many people would still be alive.”

“I wouldn’t be whole without you,” Kane told him, cupping the boy’s jaw in his hands and kissing him over and over again.  “We’ve all made mistakes, Bellamy, we’ve all done terrible things.  But the world is better with you in it.”  Bellamy’s lips parted beneath his almost involuntarily, deepening the kiss, the stiff tension softening out of his body as Kane’s tongue swept hungrily into his mouth. 

The kiss went on for a long, long time before Kane pulled away to look down at Bellamy.

“I’m so sorry I snapped at you before,” Kane said again.  “It was unforgivable.”

“You’re forgiven,” said Bellamy instantly, kissing him before he could argue.   “Just . . . maybe let’s not bring up my sister again when we’re in the middle of – “

“No, good point.”

“Kinda ruins the mood.”

“I do see that, yes.”

“Bet we can get it back though,” said Bellamy with a sly grin in his voice, and Kane’s slow spreading smile of relief was like the sun bursting through clouds.  He brushed aside the loose curl that was forever flopping over Bellamy’s forehead, with infinite fondness. 

“We don’t have to tell anybody before you’re ready,” he murmured.  “That wasn’t what I meant.  It wasn’t a reproach.  I just meant . . . we have tonight.”

“Yeah,” said Bellamy.  “We do.” He shifted his weight on the pillows a little, spreading his knees apart wider and looking meaningfully at Kane. 

“Bellamy . . .”

“I don’t care who hears,” he murmured, sliding his hands up to the older man’s shoulders.  “Honest to God, Kane.  I don’t.  We can lie if we have to.  Say Abby left her door unlocked by mistake when she left.  Let everyone think some random kids broke in here to fuck in the Chancellor’s bed.”

“Oh, that’s good,” said Kane, brightening considerably.  “I like that.”

“So if anyone hears us, we’re covered.”

“Excellent,” said Kane, gently raking his fingernails down Bellamy’s spread thighs.  “Now.  Where were we?”

“Well,” said Bellamy, obediently planting his feet and lifting his ass off the mattress so Kane could once more reposition the pillow beneath it for better access, “I’m pretty sure I was _here_.”

“That looks good to me,” Kane murmured.  “Whereas I, I think,” he added in a low, warm voice pulsing with excitement, as he gripped the heavy cock still dripping with wetness and positioned it carefully at Bellamy’s entrance, “was right about . . . _here.”_

This time when he pushed inside Bellamy was ready, hungry, eager, his ass stretched deliciously open by the first round and aching for more.  This time his sharp, stunned cry was pure pleasure, and as he’d promised, he didn’t hold back.  He saved Kane’s name for whispering in a low, pleading murmur in the older man’s ear, but he let his desperate, almost whining, moans fall freely out of his lips as Kane pressed in deeper and deeper.  “Come here,” he whimpered, holding out his arms, and Kane shifted forward, bracing one hand for balance beneath Bellamy’s thigh, to lean down and reach Bellamy’s lips with his own.  The music flowed through their muscles and bones and guided their movements into a desperate, steady rhythm of thrusting and gasping and sharp wild moans, their hard sweaty bodies curled together as though they were one. 

Bellamy wrapped his thighs tighter and tighter around Kane’s hips and his arms around the man’s back, as Kane slid his hands beneath the boy’s ass to lift him up and glide in deeper.  “More," he whispered.  "All the way.  _Please."_

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said, swallowing hard.  Then he took a deep breath as Kane slowed down his frantic pace to push deeper, deeper, deeper, until Bellamy – with a choked, desperate gasp of pleasure – had taken the entire massive bulk of him inside.

“Oh Jesus,” Kane whimpered brokenly into Bellamy’s throat.  “Oh, Bellamy.  I can’t . . . you feel . . . “

 _“Fuck,”_ Bellamy groaned.  “Oh, _fuck_.”

"Bellamy . . ."

"Hold still, just for a minute," Bellamy whispered, "let me . . . I just want to feel you."

So Kane held himself still, deep inside Bellamy, buried up to the hilt, heaving shaky breaths and feeling the heavy mounds at the base of his cock press against the boy's hot, damp skin.

Then, "Okay," Bellamy said softly, with the faint shadow of a plea in it, and his hips lifted ever so slightly off the mattress to take Kane in deeper.

“Can I,” Kane breathed, “can you – “

“Yeah.  I want you to.”

“Oh God, love, I think I might faint,” he murmured, sweat beading on his brow as he gazed down at Bellamy, dark brown eyes dizzy and unfocused.  With a trembling breath, he pulled out just a few inches before sliding back in to bottom out inside him again, and then something inside them both snapped.  From then on it was hard, frantic, raw, hands clutching wildly at each other, flesh smacking loudly against flesh, hungry moans filling the air around them.  They’d made love before, but this was fucking, pure and simple.  There was no other word for it.  Neither of them had ever imagined anything that could feel like this.

It didn't take long before they both felt the beginnings of an earth-shattering climax racing towards them from a distance.  “Are you . . . oh God . . .  are you close?” Bellamy asked between gasps, then lost his breath as Kane’s cock nudged at the deep hidden spot again, causing him to cry out.

“I’m so close,” Kane whispered.  “Oh God, love, I’m so close.”  Bellamy tried to speak, couldn’t, and simply nodded his agreement instead.  Kane traced the boy’s lower lip with his thumb, gently prodding his mouth open, then bent his head to swallow him up in a wet, messy kiss as he slipped a hand down between their bodies to seize Bellamy’s iron-hard cock in his fist.  Bellamy gasped into his mouth at the sensation, gasping moans muffled by the kiss and transmuted into a desperately erotic pleading sound like a low hum.  “Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm,” was all he could say, but it was enough, as Kane’s hand glided slickly up and down the shaft of Bellamy’s cock while his own pumped harder and harder and harder. 

Bellamy felt a shuddering, pulsing tidal wave of orgasm – like nothing he’d ever felt before in his life – begin to rise and rise up inside him.  He could feel it everywhere, pressure building in the base of his spine and down his thighs and inside his pounding chest where hungry lips and beard were brushing rough little kisses against his skin.  His hands slid up Kane’s back and over his shoulders to clutch at his hair, tugging the man’s head up to meet his eyes.  Then, _“Marcus,”_ he whispered, speaking the man’s name for the very first time, and as Kane’s eyes widened in astonishment Bellamy cried out wildly as the climax hit him and he toppled over the edge.

“Bellamy,” Kane whispered desperately, “oh God, Bellamy, I’m . . . I’m . . .”

And then he too shuddered with a violent, explosive groan and collapsed heavily against Bellamy’s chest as the boy felt warm liquid heat pour out inside of him.  “Bellamy,” he whispered over and over, hips stuttering and trembling as he filled Bellamy over and over, sticky wetness pooling between their sweat-sheened bodies.

They lay there for a long, long time, bodies melting into stillness, breath slowing down from frantic gasps into spent exhaustion.  Kane nosed lightly at his chest, pressing a lazy little kiss against his breastbone as Bellamy’s arms wrapped tightly around his back, shifting his weight to roll them onto their sides.

“Jesus,” Bellamy sighed weakly as they settled back against the mattress, tangled up close enough together to share the one lone pillow.  “I had no idea I’d like that so much.”

“I had no idea you would, either,” Kane agreed.  Bellamy grinned at him, giving him the faintest of playful shoves, and Kane laughed, kissing him lightly.  “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time,” he added, running a hand through Bellamy’s sweat-dampened curls. 

“Just so you know,” Bellamy told him dryly, “I’m going to want to do it again.”

“Well, all right, but I’m going to need a minute.”

“I didn’t mean right _now_.”

“Okay, good.”

“I can hardly _move_ right now.”

“Good, because you don’t have to,” Kane murmured, kissing the top of his head.  “You’re going to stay right here.” 

“What if . . .” Bellamy began, then stopped short.

“What if what, love?”

“What if, when Abby comes back . . . what if we talked about . . . maybe . . .”  He broke off again, almost shyly, ducking his head to rest his cheek against Kane’s shoulder.  “Maybe we could think about talking to Octavia and Clarke,” he murmured, so quietly Kane almost didn’t hear him.

“Bellamy,” Kane murmured gently.  “Look at me.”  He tilted the boy’s chin up to meet his eyes.  “If this is about what I said before – “

Bellamy shook his head.  “It’s not about that.  You were right, but it’s not . . . it’s nothing to do with what you said.  It’s just . . . time.”

“Bellamy – “

“I love you,” he said recklessly.  “I love you both.  I love you, and I’m not ashamed of it, and I don’t care who knows.”  He kissed Kane’s mouth, hard and firm.  “I liked the way it felt, being outside with you,” he whispered.  “It was like . . . it was like it was real.  Like we were _real_.”

“We _are_ real,” Kane murmured, rolling over onto his back and pulling Bellamy down beside him to cradle him close against his chest.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” Bellamy murmured, closing his eyes.  “The next time you ask me to dance, I don’t want us to have to hide it.”

“All right, love,” Kane agreed, voice warm and low, pulsing some heavy emotion.  “Next time, we won’t.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [o gather up the brokenness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542066) by [ChancellorGriffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin)




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